As I’m growing up, I’m able to hear a lot of things which I ignored all through my life, some sounds were just background noise which faded into nothingness and now I listen to them as white noises which soothes me and helps me fall asleep. I grew up hearing the voices of vendors downstairs on the roads selling tangerines and tomatoes, selling sugarcane juice and incense sticks…
I hated those voices, I hated the honks and the certain bollywood music tunes they used to play but as I grew older and lonelier, these voices, these sounds kept me company on every pathetic, work from home, alone and quiet noons.
How much my childhood friends used to annoy me just by cracking nonsense jokes here and there, for absolutely no reason especially while studying… and now when I read alone, I walk back to the memory lane to reminisce and laugh. Life is funny and ironic at the same time and we are unfortunately partially blind and ignorant for never appreciating what we have, we are so lost in ourselves that we forget that everything around is what makes us-us , I’m made up of the sound of a charmed bells ringing because it reminds me of my childhood, how I used to run bare feet as soon as I use to hear that sound with my firsts full of coins to get the cotton candy from the roadside vendor. I’m made up of meaningless jokes and happy laughter of my school friends. It reminds me of the time when we used to walk back home together from school. I’m whole because the sound of my typewriter makes me what I’m, gives me purpose and reminds me not to take the noises for granted because they may be annoying sometimes but the silence is mostly defining.
